


Rock the Catwalk

by Indehed



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-22
Updated: 2003-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indehed/pseuds/Indehed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene for the Catwalk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock the Catwalk

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Dedicated to Louise since the bunny sprouted from her deranged “Enemy at the Gates” idea.  
> Disclaimer: Paramount is the big cheese. I am merely like Porthos, begging for the good stuff.

There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight. He hadn’t slept in the last two and it was driving him slowly insane. The chanting, the weird smells, the clattering of… something.

And with over 80 people crammed into such a small area of the ship, especially considering they had no shower, the atmosphere of just the humans of the crew wasn’t the most pleasant experience of his life. The sweat, the heat, the cramped conditions… A couple hundred years since deodorant had been invented and *still* there wasn’t one that lasted more than 24 hours.

He could hardly take it.

The Captain, T’Pol and Travis were sleeping on the makeshift Bridge. He should ask them if there was room for one more. 

But then again, Malcolm was here with him, so he wasn’t suffering alone, at least. He still suffered though, in another, different, way as well. Malcolm was in the bunk right beside his. So close and yet, they couldn’t do anything here in such a public arena.

Hoshi was just above them after all, no more than two feet away, and about a dozen other crewmen were scattered very nearby, others weren’t that much further away. Their alien guests had the blanket up, but that didn’t stop sound certainly, that much Trip already knew.

Malcolm looked like he was asleep. Maybe. The guy was able to fake sleep very easily.

Trip turned onto his side facing Malcolm and propped his head on his hand. He just looked at Malcolm. He loved Malcolm. Very much. They’d been together just a short amount of time. Apparently he had Jon to thank a little for that. A conversation he’d had with Malcolm in the Romulan minefield had managed to deflate some of Malcolm’s stiff upper lift, made the Armory officer think about his position with the crew. It had been enough for Malcolm to slip up enough around Trip, to show enough of an interest, for the Engineer to gather enough courage to make his move. And move Trip had. Not too subtle a move either: in a maintenance shaft late one evening. 

And now here they were. Early in the relationship. A perfect time to explore each other in ways they never had before. And if he wanted to do it here he’d be stuck with an audience. 

Trip’s exhibitionist streak rose to the surface and told him there was nothing wrong with that. He’d already run around the ship in his underwear, what was wrong with getting his rocks off in public? And even then, everyone around was asleep. Eventually, the noise and distraction after two nights had driven the crew to exhaustion. All of them had just hit their pillows and were unconscious and unlikely to surface for hours.

They could do it. It would be fine. And the thrill of being caught, the thrill of knowing they could be watched, heard, acknowledged: it sent a chill down his spine and then the heat spread to his groin in response.

He shifted slightly, trying to make his underwear more comfortable through the tight uniform. He glanced around. People were facing away, or up. It didn’t look like anyone could see him.

He reached over the space between the bunks and rested a hand on Malcolm’s stomach. He slid closer, pulling himself along the bunks until his body lay only a very short distance from Malcolm’s. Just a centimeter more and he’d be pressed right up against Malcolm’s flank.

Malcolm stirred and opened his eyes. He turned to face Trip and eyed him suspiciously. He whispered, “What are you doing?”

“This,” Trip responded before leaning over and capturing Malcolm’s lips in a tender kiss. It was just a taste, no more. Just enough to get Malcolm’s full attention. He broke away, and shifted again, not giving Malcolm any time to refuse. He slid his body over and on top of Malcolm’s. His weight pressing down, Malcolm was sure to be feeling the hardness of Trip against his stomach.

Malcolm gasped and his legs opened involuntarily to let Trip settle easier between them, making it more comfortable for the both of them. He looked around at either side, worried that they would have an audience. “Trip, this isn’t a good time for this.”

“That’s the point.” Trip smiled slyly at Malcolm and wiggled his eyebrows before once more capturing Malcolm’s lips with his own. This time it was more insistent, more pressing, more demanding. His tongue massaged Malcolm’s and a small groan escaped from deep in Malcolm’s throat. He pulled back just enough to speak. “You like this too.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Malcolm’s head shook slightly, the closeness of Trip trapping him from moving it very much. “We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We’ll be quiet.”

“You’ve never been quiet before.”

“Neither have you.”

Trip pushed his groin against Malcolm’s. Both of them hard and needy, they seemed to no longer have any choice. Malcolm gasped again, trying to reign himself in. The power Trip had over him, to reduce him to this was incredible. Having to keep quiet, he bit his lower lip and kept his groans in check as Trip continued to push insistently against him. Friction began to build, Trip established a rhythm.

Bending his head back down, he kissed Malcolm, licked and sucked and bit his lower lip. The edge of pain driving Malcolm forward.

Malcolm was responding, thrusting up to meet Trip, setting the rhythm off balance, keeping the pressure slightly unexpected.

Trip pulled down the zip on Malcolm’s uniform as he buried his head in Malcolm’s neck, panting heavily. He shifted his weight to give him easier access. He pulled the zip as low as it would go and pushed the under shirts up as far as he could, exposing Malcolm’s skin. He then repeated the same to his own uniform and quickly, skin made contact with skin. He left Malcolm’s neck and moved down his chest, biting, nipping, licking down to nipples and then back up to taste Malcolm’s lips once more.

Both of them, wanting to talk, wanting to say what they wanted, where they wanted it, to hurry up or slow down, to keep doing that. Yet they couldn’t speak. Malcolm was being mercilessly teased and he couldn’t voice anything, could only use his hands to guide Trip slowly. He had no choice but to take what Trip gave him and the thought of that could almost throw him over the edge alone.

A gasp caught at the back of his throat as Trip’s hand made it’s way down Malcolm’s underwear to grasp his cock. Trip began to massage, keeping the rhythm they’d already tried to set. Thumb trailing over the head, smearing precum around the shaft as he pulled up and down, rotating his grip, the difference in pressure causing Malcolm to almost cry out, demanding Trip to get a bloody move on. As Malcolm opened his mouth, Trip was there, tongue pushing inside silencing him as best as possible, a reminder that they had no choice but to keep quiet no matter how much they wanted to scream out.

Trip reached into his own underwear, the feel of a rough hand against him making their situation feel even more dangerous.

Malcolm looked to his side, the only side he could look to as Trip lay sprawled across him, head on his shoulder trying to concentrate and reign in his voice. Malcolm looked at the sleeping crewmen around him and marveled at the fact that they could sleep while he and Trip had sex mere feet away from them. They didn’t know, but they could if just one of them woke at the right moment.

It was a dangerous game Trip had started and Malcolm would be shouting at him later about the recklessness. But he wasn’t exactly objecting right now. Being able to do this, being able to know that he and Trip had done this, knowing something about themselves that the crew could easily have picked up on yet would never know. It was intensely erotic.

He pulled Trip’s head away from his shoulder, breaking Trip’s concerted effort at keeping quiet and plundered Trip’s mouth like never before. He tried to convey everything in the kiss. The danger, the erotic, the pain of the silence and the love for the man doing this to him: driving him crazy, steering him a place he never thought he could go.

Trip’s grip tightened unexpectedly and Malcolm came, his tongue still invading Trip’s mouth the tremors could be felt running through his body. His mouth left Trip’s involuntarily as his head was thrown back, hitting the pillow. His mouth wide open, trying to breath and get over the orgasm, yet having to do it without making a single sound.

Trip came shortly after, collapsing on Malcolm, disguising the sound of heaving breathing in the crook of Malcolm’s neck once more. His head seemed to be spending a lot of time in Malcolm’s neck. He bit down and this time Malcolm made a small noise, but it didn’t last long.

Trip licked the small mark he’d left, a reminder for the days to come of what he did. A way to make him smile through the days of claustrophobia, heat, sweat and annoyance.

“Shit.” Malcolm exclaimed quietly in Trip’s ear, as Trip slowly trailed kisses around his face. “My cot reeks of sex.”

Trip gave a silent chuckle, shaking him and Malcolm as they lay in the aftermath. Maybe everyone around them would have some idea as to what the two of them had done after all.


End file.
